Chapter 2 - The Man Who Knew Her Brother
The third floor had indeed been fitted with better locks.
That was the first thing Mara noticed the next morning.
The second was the man standing outside the stairwell.
He wore a dark suit and no tie.
A small scar cut through his eyebrow.
He was reading a newspaper as though he were there for something entirely ordinary.
Mara knew immediately that he was one of Dante's men.
Not because she'd seen him before.
Because of the way everyone else avoided looking at him.
Mrs. Kowalski, normally fearless, gave Mara a pointed glance before disappearing down the stairs.
Mara set down her bag.
"You're blocking the door."
The man folded the newspaper.
"Mr. Bell asked me to let you know that if anyone asks to see you today, you call downstairs first."
"I can handle myself."
He looked at the gloves covering her hands.
Then at her eyes.
"I'm sure you can."
He opened the door.
As Mara stepped through, he added, "Name's Nico."
She glanced back.
"Nico what?"
"Nico is enough."
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Instead, she entered the workroom.
Her new station was positioned near the tallest windows, overlooking the roofs of the neighboring buildings.
It was better than her old station.
Warmer.
Brighter.
And somehow more threatening.
There were no other workers on the third floor.
No chatter.
No coffee.
No music humming from someone's cheap phone.
Just rows of wooden cabinets and dress forms draped in protective cloth.
The room looked less like a workshop and more like a private archive.
She immediately understood why.
Dante Bell was not sending her upstairs because he wanted her to have a nicer workplace.
He was putting her where he could control who had access to her.
She didn't like that.
But she liked being alive more.
She worked until noon.
The wedding veil was nearly restored.
At one o'clock, there was a knock.
Mara expected Nico.
Instead, Dante entered.
He removed his gloves as he walked toward the worktable.
"You slept?"
"Yes."
"Eat?"
She looked at him.
"Are those part of the employment requirements?"
"No."
"Then yes."
His mouth twitched.
It was so slight she might have imagined it.
He came to the table.
She carefully folded back the repaired portion of the veil.
"The stain is almost gone."
"I can see that."
He studied the work.
"You have remarkable hands."
Mara's shoulders stiffened.
He seemed to notice.
His gaze lifted.
"I didn't mean—"
"I know."
Silence.
Then Dante said, "Tell me about your brother."
"No."
"His name?"
"No."
"What does he owe?"
"I'm not discussing him."
"Why?"
"Because every time someone learns something about my brother, it eventually becomes leverage."
Dante leaned against the table.
"You think that's what I'm doing?"
"I think men who have power often don't understand what it feels like when someone has none."
His expression changed.
"You think I don't understand that?"
"I don't know you."
"That's fair."
He straightened.
"For what it's worth, neither did my mother."
Mara looked at him.
"She didn't?"
"I was nineteen when she died. She thought I worked at a shipping company."
Mara stared.
"You are kidding."
"No."
"What happened?"
"My father taught me never to lie to family unless the truth would get them killed."
"And did it?"
"He died believing I was exactly the man he hoped I'd never become."
The words landed harder than she expected.
Before she could respond, her phone vibrated.
Once.
Then again.
She ignored it.
Again.
Dante noticed.
"You should answer."
"No."
Her phone buzzed a fourth time.
Mara finally looked.
Unknown number.
She rejected the call.
A text appeared.
YOU CAN'T HIDE FOREVER.
Her blood ran cold.
Dante saw her face.
"What is it?"
"Nothing."
He took one step closer.
"Mara."
She turned the phone face down.
"I said it's nothing."
For the first time, his expression hardened.
"Don't lie to me when you're frightened."
"I'm not frightened."
"You've stopped breathing."
She stared at him.
He was right.
She forced air into her lungs.
"It's just an old problem."
"What kind of old problem?"
"One I can handle."
His phone rang.
Dante answered.
"Bell."
He listened.
Something shifted in his posture.
"Where?"
A pause.
"I'll be there."
He ended the call.
Mara's stomach tightened.
"What?"
He looked at her.
"Your brother."
She felt the world tilt.
"What about him?"
"He's at St. Vincent's."
"He was hurt?"
"Yes."
"How badly?"
Dante did not answer immediately.
That frightened her more than the answer would have.
"He asked for you."
She grabbed her coat.
"Take me there."
Dante caught her wrist.
She flinched so violently that he released her immediately.
He stared at his hand as if it offended him.
Then he looked at her.
"Sorry."
Mara swallowed.
"It's fine."
"No."
His voice was quieter.
"It isn't."
May you like
He picked up his coat.
"Let's go."
